Confession || Timothée Chalamet

His place

Jocelyn stood before her wardrobe, deliberating over her outfit choice for the evening. She aimed to strike the perfect balance between casual and put-together, not wanting to appear as if she was trying too hard. After several outfit changes, she settled on a simple yet stylish ensemble: a comfortable pair of jeans paired with a cozy sweater. With a final glance in the mirror, she deemed herself ready and embarked on her journey to Timothee's apartment. However, an unusual sensation gnawed at her stomach—a nervousness that seemed foreign to her, as she usually felt excited and overjoyed at the prospect of seeing Timothee. This unfamiliar feeling unsettled Jocelyn, leading her to reflect inwardly.

As she walked, she couldn't help but ponder the reason behind her unease. The only conclusion she could draw was that she was allowing herself to entertain hopes and expectations she had never dared to imagine before. Throughout their friendship, Jocelyn had never allowed herself to consider the possibility of something more with Timothee. He was the quintessential popular kid at NYU, adored by everyone and often surrounded by a bevy of beautiful girls. In comparison, Jocelyn felt like an outsider, always relegated to the role of Timothee's friend. Their friendship group at NYU had been largely shaped by Timothee's presence, and after his departure, Jocelyn found herself drifting away from them. The rare gatherings now and then hosted by Timothee were the only times she interacted with them anymore. Her thoughts ended when she finally arrived at his place—a fancy apartment in Midtown Manhattan.

Timothee greeted her with a warm smile and a big hug. As he leaned in, Jocelyn caught a whiff of his cologne, triggering memories of their near-kissed moment. Her heart skipped a beat, momentarily causing her to struggle for breath. Inside, she couldn't help but appreciate the cozy ambiance of Timothee's apartment—soft lighting, the faint scent of vanilla candles, and tasteful decor combining modern and vintage elements.

"You've renovated your place," Jocelyn commented, her tone half-hearted.

"Yeah, it was too boy-ish," Timothee chuckled. "How do you like it now?"

"It's nice, but I do miss the bean bags around the TV," Jocelyn replied with a nostalgic smile, reminiscing about their movie marathons with friends.

"I donated them to the local childcare," Timothee said, his gaze softening as he looked at Jocelyn. "But if you like them so much, I'll buy some just for you."

Jocelyn returned his smile, touched by his thoughtfulness. "That would be nice."

As she made her way to the kitchen, Jocelyn's eyes lit up at the sight of her favorite pizza from a New York pizzeria. Timothee had remembered her preference—rocket and prosciutto. The night was spent watching a film Timothee planned to do a prequel on and indulging in their favorite pizza. It brought Jocelyn back to the days when they used to passionately discuss films after watching them, deeply analyzing characters and creating backstories.

As the evening unfolded, Jocelyn found herself immersed in the warmth of Timothee's hospitality, grateful for the camaraderie they shared. In that moment, with her dearest friend, a sense of contentment washed over her. As their gazes met, Timothee smiled brightly, his warmth reaching out to her. Jocelyn reciprocated the smile, choosing to embrace the present moment and set aside her ongoing anxieties about that fateful night. For now, she's happy to cherish the simplicity of their friendship, leaving the complexities of her unspoken desire for another time.